


Black Holes and Revelation

by guineapiggie



Series: written for the Jyn Appreciation Squad [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Inspired by Music, also it's sad bet you didn't saw that one coming, hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 00:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11657832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineapiggie/pseuds/guineapiggie
Summary: She was eight when her mother died and her father left - left to be killed, presumably, or worse; left to join them for good.For eight years, they’d protected her, loved her; tucked her into bed at night. Mama had sung songs from faraway planets sometimes when she couldn’t sleep, papa had told her silly stories, tickled her, made her laugh, called her his stardust.





	Black Holes and Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Muse's "Starlight"

A blaster and a knife were all that were left.

The little smuggler ship that was taking her to Alderaan for a disgustingly steep price made a less than smooth jump into hyperspace and Jyn’s fingers clutched the hilt of the knife. She was still trying to wrap her head around it - it had been hours, many hours, days at this point - but still. _Still_.

A blaster and a knife, and the clothes on her back.

Nothing else.

She was eight when her mother died and her father left - left to be killed, presumably, or worse; left to join _them_ for good.

For eight years, they’d loved her, protected her, explained the world to her. Lyra had taught her about the earth underneath their feet, the stones in the rivers, the difference between the planets they’d lived on. Papa had put her on his shoulders some nights, and stood out on the fields with her and pointed at this star and that, indicated the planets where they’d lived before, taught her their names.

For eight years, they’d protected her, loved her; tucked her into bed at night. Mama had sung songs from faraway planets sometimes when she couldn’t sleep, papa had told her silly stories, tickled her, made her laugh, called her his stardust.

Eight years, and then, all of a sudden - gone. She had hugged them goodbye, held on to them so tightly, her parents, her _f_ _amily_ \- and yet, they’d faded from her grip, just like that.

Then the cave and the darkness. She’d been so afraid, so alone in that pitch black hole, staring at her flickering lamp, trying to recall the names of the stars that were probably shining above already, trying to recall the name of the stone surrounding her, and came up empty.

She’d thought she’d never be this scared again in her entire life.

And then Saw came, and brought her into his ship, a shiny thing then, just recently stolen from an Imperial shuttle depot on some outer-rim outpost. He’d given her food and a disgusting hot drink, and he hadn’t let her look back at Lah’mu as they took off.

Saw believed in leaving memories behind. Apparently that was all Jyn was to him now, a memory, because he’d left her behind the way he’d told her to leave behind her past.

For eight years, he’d protected her, explained his world to her. Saw, much like her mother, spent his life chasing a starlight - chasing a thing far out of his reach, something that even if he reached it, he’d never live to cherish. And sometimes, Jyn wasn’t sure if that freedom, that peace for all the galaxy that Saw dreamt of, wasn’t just like a light from a faraway star, just the afterglow of something long since dead.

Still, for eight years he’d taken care of her, taught her all he knew - even if all he knew was fighting and stealing and sowing chaos.

Eight years, and he’d loved her, too, in his own, strange way. Or at least so she’d thought.

And she would have followed him for the rest of her life, probably, just so she wouldn’t lose that. Just so she’d never be the little girl afraid and alone in the dark again.

But instead, she’d been left behind, without warning, with nothing but a blaster and a knife and the clothes on her back, _again_. Like ballast too heavy to carry, like a bad memory.

Maybe it was because her eight years were up. Maybe everything she trusted, everything she called home was just destined to fade from her after eight years as some sort of cruel cosmic rule.

She was alone. Nobody cared where she was, what she was doing, if she was happy. Nobody cared if she was alive or dead.

She was alone. Just a blaster and a knife and the clothes on her back.

Completely and utterly _alone_.

Her fingers gripped the heft of the knife more tightly and she opened her eyes, stared at the dull metal hull.

She could leave this behind. She’d done it once.

She didn’t have to care for a cause that didn’t care for her.

And if nobody cared if she lived or not, then _she_ would care. She was a good fighter, Saw’s best fighter, he’d said so himself. She could keep herself alive. She didn’t need anyone else.

They’d only ever leave her.


End file.
